


Holiday

by Swlfangirl



Series: Happy Sterek Birthday Heather! [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ArborDay!Smut, BAMF!Stiles, Earns the Rating, M/M, Smut, hahaha inside joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles celebrate Arbor Day every year... not quite how you'd think though. Enjoy, oh and SMUT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday

Outside of Boyd’s nursery, Derek stood next to a jet black pickup truck with four tiny saplings loaded into the back.

“I’m sorry, Boyd. I’d love to go with you, but you know how Stiles’ gets about today.” Derek sighed, giving his best “ _what are you gonna do_ ” shrug, one brow shooting up and the other curving just a tad. Stiles would have recognized it for what it was: the _fake-bro brow_ , more commonly known as his “I’m lying in a way that you won’t know I’m lying until it’s too late” expression. Derek was pretty sure Boyd couldn’t translate it.

“He does realize he’s like the only person alive that considers _Arbor Day_ an actual holiday right?” Boyd asked, giving off a scent of disbelief and something that smelled a little like worry.

“I think so, but with Stiles you never really know.” Derek replied, finding it hard to keep the grin off his face when he thought about his mate. He pulled his beta in for a hug, giving him a large pat on the shoulder before stepping back. “Go keep an eye on your wife, even if she doesn’t like it, Erica will appreciate it...eventually. Being a midwife she knows how important it is.”

Boyd smiled and nodded in agreement.

The journey home only took a few minutes. Most of the pack had settled close to the preserve. Some Beacon Hills’ residents liked to gossip and make up crazy stories about “those weird Hale kids” and their oddly-close friends, but for the most part, people let them be.

Stiles was waiting when he got home, a large bag in hand. He climbed into the cab and dumped the heavy load onto the floor between them. Derek was surprised to hear that John had already picked the twins up, meaning they were alone for the rest of the evening.

“Happy Arbor Day, baby.” Stiles said, scooting closer and dropping a kiss on Derek’s cheek.

Derek shook his head fondly, “Happy Arbor Day, Stiles.”

He drove into the preserve, following the old dirt beaten path for nearly fifteen minutes. Stiles exhaled with a long sigh just before they reached their spot.

Derek loved the way he looked when they were this close to the ominous tree. Sure, it rained hell down on them for years but Deaton and Stiles worked together and found a way to use it as a conduit for Stiles’ spark.The pull of the tree for Stiles was as strong as the moon to Derek's wolf. His mate seemed to buzz with energy and life whenever they were within a mile of the Nemeton.

They had the routine down to a science over their almost twenty years together. Derek dug four sapling sized holes in the ground while Stiles took his bag and began setting up. Once they were done, they both moved over to plant one for each of themselves, and later one for each of the twins as well. It didn’t take long, both of them working pretty quickly to get the Hazel seedling into the soil.

As Stiles was firming the soil around the last sprig, Derek wrapped his arms around his mate’s waist and hummed into the side of his neck. The scent of Stiles was different here, it was more earthy and tasted of ozone. It was a little addictive, if he were being honest with himself. He’s glad they limited their joint trips to once a year. Derek found that once his mate taught him that he didn’t have to constantly make himself miserable, he became incredibly greedy and insatiable with things that made him happy.

“Think it will ever be enough?” Derek asked, into the beautiful, pale skin.

“Not really, but I guess whoever, whatever is behind all this magic and mayhem understands the gesture.” Stiles answered, laying his head back against Derek’s shoulder.

They stretched their bodies out on a soft blanket spread beneath the fifteen foot tall white oak tree they’d planted their first year. Derek held on tightly to his mate as they laid there in silence.

So much blood had been spilled, lives taken, in that space. Derek remembered how different the land had felt when he first returned to Beacon Hills; It felt like death, smelled like it too. Now, there was a faint hint of something that wasn’t quite right, something that hadn’t been there when he was growing up, but for the most part it smelled like any other forest fresh, living, and most distinctively, wild.

Once their dedicated moments were over, Stiles shifted behind him. Long nimble fingers mapped out the contours of his abdomen, pressing firmly against the finely toned muscles. Derek smiled when he felt the slow, languid movements.

Stiles was always the first to break the silence, the first to redefine the atmosphere from sacred and peaceful, to appreciative and passionate. It was hard to believe that this was the same person, the same guy, that Derek made love to their first time. Things were much different now. The boy had grown into a man. Stiles had been an easily-distracted, young virgin what felt like only yesterday. Now, his actions were calculated and concise, knowing what would draw out the best reactions. Stiles nipped and sucked Derek’s skin; he moaned wantonly when he felt the harsh bite at his neck. Soothing it quickly with his tongue, sometimes the moments reminded him of a battle strike yet still held that incredibly intimate feeling.

Derek growled when he felt the blunt nails digging into his hips beneath the fabric of his shirt. Pleasure rippled through his skin intensely when Stiles’ spark was at its peak. He nipped and sucked at his mate’s clavicle, not stopping even when he felt the deft fingers tugging against the metal buckle of his belt.

“That’s it baby, love it when you growl for me.” Stiles’ pace quickened, his actions becoming more heated but still cautious. Derek was still marking up his mate’s neck when he felt Stiles’ hand make contact with his half-hard dick. Excitement ran beneath Derek’s skin like lightning through his veins. His wolf howled in bliss, followed with a loud, raucous moan shortly after.

“Stiles,” he panted, his breathing halted and his chest tight. His mate stroked him with expert precision and Derek let his head fall back as the thrill of their connection hummed ecstatically throughout his entire body.

“Mmm, and there’s the wolf.” Stiles muttered, kissing the words into his lips. “Up. I need see all of you.”

Derek responded immediately, lifting himself up and tugging at the fabric of his shirt, quickly ridding himself of his jeans and boxers. Every year, they’ve done this and each time it felt bigger, more significant, just _more_... than the last time.

Derek reclined over the thick comforter that Stiles had spread out, eagerly waiting for more.

He heard Stiles’ small chuckle as he worked on his own wardrobe, at a much slower pace though. Derek felt himself blushing. Derek knew it wouldn’t be obvious, but figured Stiles would know anyway. Even with the heightened senses of a wolf, his mate seemed to be the more intuitive of them.

Derek loved that he was typically the one in control of their intimate moments, whether it be a lazy morning blowjob, making love all night long, or even a quickie in their office. He enjoyed being the one to dictate what, when, and how it should happen... for the most part at least. Stiles was creative and he pushed Derek further than he’d ever thought he’d go, but there was never any doubt who was the more dominant.

One day a year, though, everything changed.

Stiles commanded and Derek obeyed. Stiles directed, Derek followed. There were no disputes, no contests, it was all consuming.

Derek gaped in awe at the now-naked Stiles. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d viewed the exact picture more times than he could count over all their years together, the sight still took his breath away, still made his pulse spike and his interest to grow.

“You’re so beautiful,” Derek whispered, his eyes raking over every inch of pale flesh and lean muscle.

Stiles straddled him, his thin hips positioned on Derek’s thighs. Taking his shaft in hand, Stiles began coaxing the charged flares of heat and power through his skin once again. Derek tried to calm down as he felt the wet heat of his lovers’ mouth wrap around him, sucking and relaxing. He focused on the small individual movements, letting his thoughts clear and his mind empty of anything else.

Before long, he was jerked back into the moment, Stiles released his dick with a loud “pop.” Derek watched his mate gracefully glide to his knees, something that he would have thought unimaginable just a few years prior. In this place though, Derek watched as Stiles was elegant, agile, and unrivaled in beauty.

Feeling the tip of his cock push against Stiles’ prepped entrance, Derek bit his tongue, holding back a whimper. Seconds later, Derek let out a strangled moan as his dick was engulfed in a crushing heat. His gasping breaths became even more hurried as Stiles slid further down onto his throbbing shaft.

His hands instinctively flew to his mate’s waist, holding him there briefly as he caught a lungful of air. Once he let go, Stiles was quick to move, rotating his hips in a deliciously fluid grind. A voltaic pulse thrummed beneath Derek’s skin, like small, organized explosions were rapidly going off inside him

“Stiles,” he choked out, his body trembling with urgent need. His mate seemed to understand his climax was drawing close and immediately reached for Derek’s hand, wrapping a fist tightly around his own leaking cock.

With something to keep his focus, Derek tried to stave off his impending orgasm a little longer. He took pride in the way Stiles relaxed in his grip, as if there was no doubt that Derek would take care of him.

Derek’s frenzied thrusts and Stiles’ stuttered shifting increased as they simultaneously reached their orgasms. Burning, white heat flashed behind his eyes as Derek spilled inside his mate. He barely felt the warm wet ropes pulsing over his hand and torso as Stiles met him in pleasured bliss.

Curled up on the blanket atop the forest floor, the two of them intertwined, Derek wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more in tune with his wolf. He’d had more significant days in his life, of course. It was just that in these small intimate moments, his wolf would finally settle in a way it never had, even before the fire.

“I love you,” Derek whispered against his Stiles’ ear. He knew the small phrase wasn’t enough, couldn’t convey the magnitude of what Stiles brought him every single day, but it was the only thing he had.

Derek liked to think that when Stiles said it back in the same way, it was because he couldn’t find the words either.


End file.
